Introduction
When I started this blog back in late 2021, I relished the opportunity to finally have time to catch up on a backlog of reading into Disability Inclusion and DEI generally. I was quickly disappointed. There was little in the way of insight and a great deal of stuff written by inclusion consultants who seemed to be primarily part of an industry with little capacity for self-reflection.
In late January this year (2025) Iris Bohnet and Siri Chilazi published Make Work Fair in response to a politically motivated backlash against DEI in the US. In October Andrew Doyle published a substack essay – The Death Rattles of DEI. This was a caustic polemic against something about which I had already developed a deep scepticism.
Commenting on a well-known presenter on DEI, Doyle observes,
“The half-hearted poeticism barely masks the anxiety of man who fears that his racket has been exposed. The predominance of the creed of DEI, and its
usurpation of meritocracy as the guiding principle in the corporate world, is a
testament to the success of culture warriors. They have made plenty of know-
nothings very wealthy by promoting ideology as though it were uncontested
truth. But now it might well be coming to an end.”
Earlier I had spent a few months delving into the toxic world of identity politics. I was surprised and dismayed by what I found. There were 5 books that shaped my response – We Have Never Been Woke, The End of Woke, Free Speech and Why It Matters, Against the New Politics of Identity and Cynical Theories.
In response I articulated my sense of a Functional Disability Theory (FDT). See Why I needed my Functional Disability Theory from August. I felt a need to review my earlier thoughts on DEI and establish a clear sense of where I stood on disability and identity.
Below I want to reflect on these ideas because I believe it is vital that Disability Inclusion advocates must develop a lucid position on what is happening. I am not saying mine is the position to be adopted, only that it is one position of many – one that dissents from most of that many. My concern is that, given the sensitivities, advocates will be best served in meeting their objectives if they are clear about what they think and believe.
Finding the calm in the storm
The emotional heat Doyle brought to his essay reminded me that critiquing beliefs and practices can seem to be fair enough but often causes collateral damage. Some DEI practitioners are deeply committed and doing good work. Some are professional and others are just passionate. But passion can be misdirected, miscommunicated and misinterpreted.
Well-intentioned people are doing the best they can. And sometimes this can be spectacularly inept. Nothing is uniform. DEI comes in many flavors – and some are unpalatable. Doyle’s reaction is spot on in important respects. DEI is about organizational, social and personal psychology and not about smooth talking performers spouting ineffectual bullshit for handsome fees. It is about a professional practice based on knowledge and insight.
Back in 2000 I explored the idea of personal praxis in my Social Ecology course. It took me quite some years to mature my early thoughts into a useful insight. I was helped by contracting GBS which led to me spending 18 months trying to make my body work again. I still have significant disabilities, but I am grateful things are as good as they are. It could have been so much worse.
Regardless of the opinions (send him to a nursing home) and the expertise of physiotherapists everything came down to what I was prepared to do. I needed an attainable and workable objective, a theory of how to get there, and the determination to put in the very considerable effort necessary. Even as a patient I needed a praxis.
Praxis is an under-used term. Wikipedia describes praxis as “the process by which a theory, lesson, or skill is enacted, embodied, realized, applied, or put into practice.” Reflection and review are a vital part of the process. Again Wikipedia is helpful in its description of action learning – “an approach to problem solving that involves taking action and reflecting upon the results.”
The purpose of DEI is to generate and guide positive change for individuals and yet it seems often that the ideas of neither praxis nor action learning have entered the heads of its champions. This is regardless of the fact that DEI is a novel and complex endeavour. Many go no further than seeing it as a good idea that can be engaged with in a rewarding way.
It is easy to criticize others or be intimidated or offended or annoyed by them. In the swirling storm of passions about DEI, Wokeness and Identity Politics none of it now seems of any use to me. It was handy to be aware of it and try to understand what is going on. That now seems like a vastly complex task that yields practical value. I am glad I asked the questions and sought, but I am also grateful I feel no impulse to become further involved.
My goal, with my notion of FDT, is to focus on what works to address access, inclusion and dignity needs in the most effective way.
Exclusion is often the first thing advocates for inclusion practice.
Back in 2019 I was invited to attend a meeting run by another agency’s Disability ERG. There were only a handful of participants present. I asked about their relationship with the agency’s executive. There was none. They had made no attempt to engage the agency’s leadership at all. I was initially stunned. Then I understood that here the ERG was modelled on a union whose primary mode was contestation rather collaboration.
The function of a Disability ERG isn’t to solve inclusion problems itself but to work with its agency to help it meet its responsibilities. That will include insight-driven leadership.
Our default mode is moral assertion – often assigning blame for perceived failings. We assume that the mere assertion of a moral duty is sufficient to induce action and any failure to act is a moral failing for which the other party is to blame. It is easy to see how this can escalate into conflict. We assume and assert the moral high ground and assign culpability to those who do not agree or comply. It’s the way we do politics on a global scale and often how we do relationships on a personal scale. It’s not a functional way to achieve inclusion, however – no matter how self-satisfying we might feel.
I observed to my department’s Secretary some time ago that there was an abundance of goodwill across the agency. What we needed to figure out was how to activate it in service of our inclusion goals. Admonition was not the way to go. We needed a more subtle approach. We had to become genuinely inclusive – working with the many moods and modes of the staff to excite a common desire to be more inclusive.
This challenge led us to be aware of when we slipped back into default mode and began applying blunt moral force. We needed to understand the difference between the motive force of goodwill and the cognitive capacity to engage with it.
DEI practitioners seem to often rely on the ‘low hanging fruit’ of inherent goodwill and fool themselves into believing they are responsible for initial positive responses to DEI efforts. But when the easy good outcomes dry up and the hard work begins, they can fall back on admonitions or blaming others for being resistant.
We have now dropped the idea of New Year’s Resolutions because we finally comprehend that we rarely have the capacity to engage the cognitive energy to break habits or prioritize one set of thoughts and feelings over another.
In short, if we want to trigger inclusive action we must demonstrate it. This means being patient and forgiving of those who fail to do what they signal they want to do.
By focusing moral imperatives, we are bringing rocks to a gunfight. Over the past 50 years research into our psychology has yielded a breathtaking amount of insight into how to influence our behaviour. This insight has been employed by those who seek profit and advantage and only by a minority of people who desire to do good.
The art of positive persuasion – of changing behaviour for good outcomes – isn’t easy to learn because it first requires us to be honest and insightful about ourselves. It is far easier to manipulate others to our advantage than to persuade them to act to shared and mutual advantage.
My early exploration of DEI practitioners suggested that virtually none of them had developed this insight. There was a practical reason here. Delivering a training session had to be a business proposition resulting in a pay day. Developing the art of positive persuasion takes practice grounded in insight and determination. That’s unattractive to a business wanting a quick fix. Generally, the organization, its staff and the provider are on the same page here. The quick ‘fix’ works for all. Except the ‘fix’ meets only compliance needs and while it may give a warm glow to participants it doesn’t move the needle far beyond what natural good will would do.
Beyond moral
Our desire for greater inclusion is sensible. As our communities evolve to be more complex and pluralistic, so our values must change. Once, we built public buildings that made no provision for people with mobility disabilities. Now, in most places that is unthinkable.
We think these changes are moral. But I disagree. I used to think that. But I don’t think that failing to make building access is a moral lack, so much as a perceptual and conceptual one. Our perceptions change and, to ensure that those changes are reflected in our life-worlds, decisions must be made and funds allocated. There might be moral issues arising from decision-making processes though.
Our instinct is to see anything requiring cognitive effort as a threat. With this wired into our brains we can see why learning can be so unpopular. We’d rather be having fun, taking it easy. For those for whom exclusion and inequity are threats there is a greater willingness to learn. But we still rely on moral assertion to stimulate and inform what we learn.
We are always playing catch up with change. Our environment changes and then we react to adapt. If we misinterpret the nature of the change and misunderstand the response we should employ, we will fail to reach our goals.
I think we also have a need to be thought of as ‘good’. But this depends on whose opinion we value – who is ‘one of us’. This might be our family, our friendship network, team members, fellow employees or members of our community. The larger that group the more idealistic and inclusive we are.
As observed above, on the whole, our communities reflect an abundance of goodwill, which means we are increasingly more inclusive decade by decade. We respond positively to advocacy for positive change.
DEI and Disability advocates play a role in signaling that change is desired. But what they are not good at is persuading the hold outs – especially those who are in positions of influence and power. This matters because people in such positions are less likely to be empathic, compassionate and inclusive. There’s good research (in cognitive science and neuroscience) on this theme which I urge the reader to discover and explore. A Psychology Today article might be a useful starting point. I found that and other sources when I searched ‘power and the loss of empathy’.
So, precisely when insight into how to persuade those in power to be more empathic the DEI and Disability advocates run out of ideas, insight and capability to stimulate positive change.
Conclusion
On a personal level I now see DEI as a high-level set of values based on a theory rather than a basis for practice. It needs a rethink and thorough overhaul.
I take Bohnet’s and Chilazi’s point that with DEI there’s now a political dimension that is contestable and political. It didn’t need to be there and it distorts and stains what should be an unquestionably worthy objective. They argue that fairness is a better, more universal, value. I agree.
It may be that arguing that everybody gets an equal chance will trigger some deeply entrenched biases but that’s an easier thing to deal with than asserting people of a ‘protected’ class deserve particular attention. Inclusivity must include everyone, rather than groups of identified people we see as a ‘protected’ class of persons.
If we focus on individual attributes, we increase the risk of undesired focus of attention when people just want to be ‘one of us’. We discriminate for, rather than against. It’s as if we think this counters the adverse response. But what we often do is just paint a nicer target on people’s backs.
I am aware that the politics of identity is now embracing disability. I have no desire to engage with the arguments about it. They don’t concern me, so I have no useful opinion to express. I remain focused on disability being about what I and others can’t do in settings where we are entitled to equity of opportunity and dignity. What accommodations and adjustments are necessary to enable that equity? How then can we make those accommodations and adjustments happen?
Here there are two considerations – the attitudinal and the functional. There isn’t yet universal agreement that this equity is to be actively and willingly brought to fruition. The means – priorities, permissions, processes, plans and funds – must also be realised, often against pragmatic or ideological opposition.
The method to achieve functional equity is persuasion. The moral argument has been put and won. We have legislation and policy in place. Now we need action to evolve what is into what is desired. Persuasion in this context is ethical and sophisticated. It is a form of leadership. It requires self-awareness, insight and empathy. It requires knowledge and skill. Ideally it is a form of praxis sustained by action learning practices.
It is hard work that can’t be knocked over in one-off training seminars or on-line courses. It’s more complex than self-styled disability advocates and DEI trainers can imagine or bother with. Doyle is right about one thing in particular. The performers get paid for their slick deliveries while the people who are doing the hard work at ERG levels are often expected to donate their time.